


A King's Choice

by WolfjawsWriter



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Forced Marriage, King/Knight AU, M/M, True Love, king AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-10-15 19:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17534789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfjawsWriter/pseuds/WolfjawsWriter
Summary: “The King’s Choice” -Lockwood x QuillLockwood and Co. SeriesWarning: Based on “The Cost of the Crown” by Margie ButlerSummary: The choices a king must make are never easy.AU: King/Knight——Lockwood——





	1. Decision

The moon shone brightly, soaring high in the nighttime, pitch-black sky, bathing the grey walls of the palace and lighting the ample room I was in with its auroral and silvery light, reaching the farthest corners of the room. Everything inside it shone as brightly; all the books with their differently colored cases, on their wooden shelves that extended a whole wall on the east side of the room. The portraits of deceased family members were lightened by it, their eyes lost on some random point of the room to which they had been staring at for years now. The blades of old ceremonial swords reflected the light just as bright as it came, sitting quietly on their usual places under their respective portraits. The mahogany desk and silk-padded chair that stood just a few steps behind me were equally lightened by the sky’s silver orb. The fireplace’s warm and golden light shone against the cold, silvery light of the moon, creating a beautiful, familiar sight for me, one I had grown accustomed to over the long hours I had spent in this room.

 

But tonight I couldn’t concentrate on it. No, not tonight. My eyes only had place for one, particular and distant, that currently stood outside the door of this study. Dear Gods, how hard it is right now and had been since the beginning of the night that I had to resist the temptation of calling them inside the room and ask them to stay here like we had done so, oh so many times before. But those were other times and circumstances.

 

I sighed and kept looking out the window of my study. In the distance I could see the many  small houses of the people of my kingdom, some of the windows still alight in them, reassuring me I wasn’t the only one that had to stay up to the late hours of the bitter nights. I couldn’t blame them of course, with what the future seemed to hold for us looming on the threshold of my lands. 

 

Who could have ever thought things would come down to this? A country as powerful as mine, who had conquered countless nations in peaceful and violent manners during my reign, as well as my father’s before me, and his father’s before him, suddenly brought to its knees. Who could have ever guessed that a province that had never held any historical value, or means to properly commercialize, or resources that could make them of any interest to anyone, would ever manage to grow as much as Deadstone did? Who would have ever conceived the idea that in such an insignificant, irrelevant place a greedy, mighty and power-hungry leader would be born?

 

But then again, I had to recognize and accept that, as bitter as it made me to think of it, as much as I wanted to deny the truth, I couldn’t escape the reality of the situation; I had caused this.

 

The perish of my own people, of the colossal monarchy that my family had so bravely and arduously fought to protect over the years, was a fate brought upon us by me. And for such ridiculous circumstances!

 

The Lord of Deadstone was a man who never found the potential to grow powerful in anything other than his province’s alcoholic beverages, but never once tried to commercialize any of it to any other country around his. Every other ruler, myself included, thought him and his province were nothing more than mere dust on the doorstep of our domains, and we weren’t wrong. However, when the man fell ill a few years ago, he married off his daughters, being as they were the only offspring he had, and hoped that one of them would catch the attention of one of us bigger rulers. 

 

To say that he had made a party to present his daughters to us would be telling a lie; he made the party to find them all a husband in the act. I, myself, got to meet them all, but none of them had anything that held my interest, and when talking with some of the neighboring kingdom’s rulers I said many things about the Lord and his daughters I now realize I shouldn’t have said. 

 

Now, it wouldn’t have been that bad if it had been the Lord himself who heard me when I said those things, or some other daughter of his. Oblivious to the man’s youngest daughter’s presence just a few steps away from me I spouted out all sorts of irreverences about their family and province.

 

Now, years later from that night’s events, just a year ago, Deadstone conquered one of its neighboring towns in only three day’s time, apparently in a battle that lasted the whole three days. I had been bewildered to say the least; that province had never had an army of its own, not during my days on the throne, or my father’s, and during none of the other kingdom’s ruler’s time. And if they had had one, it wouldn’t have been one strong enough to conquer anybody!

 

And only a few weeks after that, their new and now-bigger army advanced against another of the countries surrounding Deadstone, and shortly after another, their soldier’s numbers growing with exceptional speed. A meeting between monarchs was called in; the stress and fear Deadstone’s drive for power caused for the rest of us grew as big and fast as the province’s lands and victories during battle, and something had to be done to stop the advancing of the army that they had so suddenly developed.

 

To this very day I find it hard to comprehend what we had been presented with during the meeting. The Lord of Deadstone was yet to die even though he was badly sick; somehow he had managed to avoid death all these years, something quite impressive on its own, but not the most surprising thing of the day. The person that commanded the entirety of his army for him, the person that had put together the battalion from the mere nothing, the prodigious mind behind all their unbeatable battle strategies, was none other than the Lord’s youngest daughter; Lucy Joan Carlyle.

 

Unmarried, uncouth, vicious, brutally honest and highly ambitious, she was a completely different woman from the girl I met her as that night at the party. She spoke with such comprehension of battle forms, of ancient wars, of complex politics that only the best and most experienced commanders could have possessed. To this day it is unknown how she came to custody such compound knowledge, but there are some theories, none of which I believed in.

 

She declared war against all those that had laughed at their province, promising to bring them to their knees and have them plead mercy of her for their people and them, which she swore from that moment she wouldn’t have any, but most of all, she declared war against me and my people. This was of course no less than fair for the things I had said about her and her family. 

 

I let out a deep, grieving sigh and returned to the chair behind my desk. My thoughts drifted again to the one that stood outside my study in silence, unmoving, only a call away from me and yet farther than he had ever been. I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to come to me if I called him, which was why I couldn’t ask him in now, or else my thoughts would focus on him and solely on him: the Commander of my Royal Guard, Quill Kipps.

 

God, the lone thought of his name made my cheeks paint red, my whole face feel hot and my suit like it was suffocating me. And for my own demise, he was very well aware of all this and many times took it to his own advantage, but of course, only when we were alone. He wouldn’t dare to do so in public and for that I am very thankful.

 

He was everything I didn’t look for in a relationship of any kind _(whenever I had been looking for one)_ and for some reason I found that incredibly intriguing. From the moment we met I noticed there was something about him that wasn’t quite the same as with everybody else. He wasn’t scared to treat me like if I was just another guard of the castle; rough and yet never quite rude. Painfully honest and yet never impolite. Undiplomatic and yet not ill-mannered.

 

And somehow this had all caught my eyes.

 

Besides of course, how well he looked in that Royal Guard Commander uniform of his and with his armor on…lets just say some of my most pleasant dreams _(and nights)_ have been plagued by it.

 

While his company provided me with the sweetest of comforts from all troubles and hardships my royal duties brought upon me and were bound to bring in the future, I feared that for this present problem his presence would only torment me and make my thoughts all the more confusing. I needed to stay clear-minded for a decision such as this one, after all.

 

I hated that it was the actions of my past that had brought this upon me, I despised myself for it, and yet, I knew that I wasn’t entirely guilty. 

 

The Lord of Deadstone, as sick and elderly as he might be, he was still alive and ruling his province, as much as princess Lucy wanted to protest against his authority, his word was still law in their province, so she and the rest of their people still had to do as he said. 

 

Currently his battalion was stationed at the skirts of my kingdom, ready and waiting for the order to take us down. My own soldiers were posted at the edges of the towns, prepared for the moment in which I gave the order. Yet, I fear it may not come anytime soon. 

 

Due to advice his daughter now regretted giving to him, the Lord now wished to possess my lands and by as little violent means as possible. So, he has offered me his daughter’s hand in marriage. It was a…sensible arrangement. My people would be safe from surefire death, unlike the subjects of so many other rulers who’s kingdoms had been devastated in days time. 

 

And yet I couldn’t make up my mind to it.

 

Many would say it was an obvious decision; marry the princess, save my subjects, become the most powerful king, because it was obvious that’s where things would be headed. But I didn’t want all that. I wanted to stay here in my castle where I could have my weekly royal meetings with my counselors, where I could everyday make audiences and listen to my subject’s petitions and feuds and solve them peacefully with them. Where I could have my quiet work nights in my study and call in the man I loved to make me company like he had been doing every night for the past years.

 

How could I give all that up? 

 

Then again, I could say no to his proposal and go to war against him. On the other hand, if the other countries hadn’t stood a chance against his army, even if mine was considerably bigger than theirs on people and resources, what was the possibility that I could win to him when his artillery was already bigger than mine? 

 

And if I sent my soldiers to war against his, chances were he wouldn’t make it back…against such an enemy it wouldn’t matter his years of expertise on his job, he was still going to be fighting something that was times more powerful…

 

So either I gave up to him now before an altar and vow my life to someone I didn’t love now and would probably never love, or I gave myself a few more days by his side only to loose him in battle and condemn myself to a dungeon from which I would never escape alive, sentencing most of my people to a similar fate.

 

Sometimes it was a blessed thing to be a king, but others it was nothing but a burden to carry to the grave. Our wing’s are cut short by our responsibility to our people and our nation. We couldn’t choose freely like most think, we must put everything else before us in every decision we take. 

 

It is the cost of the crown we bear, to give up our lives for those we serve.


	2. The Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: a deal that cannot be broken
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: NSFW (kinda)

The rain’s heavy falling and the roaring thunder were the only things that could be heard around the whole kingdom. The trees were shaken around by the terrible wind that wrecked the lands, brought by the dreadful storm. River Sinforte ran ferociously at the edge of the forest and crashed against its rocky banks, the water jumping out madly to the trees. 

 

Everyone was firmly tucked inside their beds for the night, covered by their soft and warm quilts as they snored quietly, peacefully. The children were fast asleep since hours ago, the women and men laid on their beds, holding each other lovingly, guarding the warmth of their bed.

 

No soul should have been wandering the streets and roads of the towns at such hour of the night, or in such weather as the one that rocked the houses and stores. No one ought to walk the lanes of the silent city in conditions as the one that oversaw the land that night.

 

And yet one did.

 

My horse’s hooves clicking against the cobblestone of the roads was completely drowned by the rain, the neighing and huffing from the nervous animal eaten up by the thunders that boomed high above us. The shops and stalls were of course closed, the fruit and vegetables having been taken inside the houses so they wouldn’t get ruined by the weather. The smell of spiced meat, roasting inside blazing ovens was obviously absent, the usual glamour of the marketplace stolen from its rightful place.

 

I made my way quietly through the districts of the city. There were some Guards stationed here and there in the corners of the avenues, pacing around the streets, standing in silence in the alleys as was their duty. They would eye me curiously from their posts, and many approached me to question my intentions, or likely to send me on my way back home, but they’d immediately back away when they caught the glare I gave them from under the hood of my cloak.

 

Soon I was out of town and making my way through the dirt-roads to the wide forest that bordered the land. My horse neighed anxiously as we advanced, entering the mass of trees that separated our city with the next.

 

No one dared to enter the forest, not during the day, and even less during the night, given the countless stories and legends of horrible monsters that devoured men, of the vicious devils and demons that lured people into their heinous ploys, of the godless women and men that devoted their lives to the wicked dark arts. 

 

It had to be here somewhere…

 

The white light of the moon above the treetops was slowly becoming less and less as we went deeper into the forest, making it harder for me to recognize my surroundings. Not that it was easier before- the woods looked fairly the same everywhere you looked no matter the lighting you got. It seemed like everywhere I turned I would see the same tree with twisted roots and thick branches, heavy leaves that were weighted with the water of the rain. The sound of owls hooting from their nests inside tree trunks, the tiny claws of the wood’s critters agains the branches, the slight hissing of animals resting in their dens surrounded me along the rain.

 

Eventually I managed to see a small dot of light among the trees and I directed my horse towards it. Ignoring its nervous whining and the slightly struggle on the reigns, it followed my command and marched towards the light source. It steadily grew bigger, then another light appeared. Then another. And one more. 

 

I pulled the reigns back, my horse stopping with a fearful snort. We stood before a great oak tree, its trunk thick like a castle’s towers, and long and tall just like one. It had some holes- windows on some parts of its trunk, which allowed to see a bright, slightly flickering light coming from inside.

 

The horse shifted nervously on its hooves as I jumped off- and I couldn’t blame it, there was a strong, eerie atmosphere about the place. 

 

Just like I needed it to be. I found there to be no door on the trunk, even after I had circled it multiple times to make sure. Eventually I just decided to knock on the bark of the tree, my knuckles hurting slightly.

 

There was a slight new sound coming from the bark, but I had no time to recognize it before I saw a bright outline form on the trunk. It intensified gradually, taking form on the outside and before I knew it, the bark swung open on its own. I made no move back as I felt the pull of my horse’s reigns in my hand, keeping firmly in place as a tall figure made its way through the new hole.

 

“…why, hello there, your Highness”

 

Its voice was dark and deep, rather melodious, like roots of a tree that had been planted centuries ago and grown far into the ground, and yet it hid in it a jovial spark, a lightness to it, giving it a pleasant tone. Still, I could feel a twinge of snark hidden not-so-subtly inside it.

 

“Good evening” I answered simply. The figure kept the opening ajar with a hand pressed on it, its long, dark robes hanging from its long arm. Everything about it seemed long, from its arm, to its pale hand, to the robe that covered it, to the body that was under it, to the long mane of hair that flowed out of the hood. 

 

“Such hour of the night to have come, couldn’t you wait for a more reasonable hour?”

 

“I’m afraid not” It stepped back into the trunk, gesturing me to come after it. I hesitated. 

 

Giving the oak tree another skeptical look and making sure my horse wouldn’t ran off into the woods, I walked after it through the opening. It was impossible to hide the small gasp that came out of my mouth. The inside of the tree was at the least three times bigger than how it looked from the outside, a sitting room complete with couches, small tables, even a few potted plants displayed before me, elegantly arranged before an actual chimney. I silently wondered how it was that the fire didn’t jump out of the chimney and burned everything, but I kept quiet.

 

The door closed behind me and I turned around to look at the figure again. The black robe it wore covered its complete body, sweeping the floor at its feet and the hood sheltering its head. However, it didn’t cover its pale and thin face, or the dark eyes with which the figure stared at me, or the devious smirk they gave me, pearl white teeth glimmering slightly in the fire’s light.

 

My body grew warm under my cloak.

 

“I see. And what can a humble sorcerer like myself do for you?” Their voice had a certain purr to it, a deep rumbling sound that reached me and caused me to forget the reason of my visit. It came back to me a second later. 

 

“I’m here for your help”

 

“And what can I help you with?”

 

“I need power” The words sounded pitiful to my ears, just like I knew how desperate it must have sounded to them. I felt the deprived and destitute _thirst_ for it as I said it. The shaking weakness in my bones from the _lack_ of it, the sickening emptiness in my stomach from the _need_ of it, the insatiable hunger in my heart from the _desire_ of it. My whole body, in those words, trembled feebly from _need_.

 

The sorcerer’s smirk grew “you’re quite greedy aren’t you, your Highness?”

 

I clenched my jaw before thinking of an answer. There were rumors around the kingdoms, feared rumors, that those who pledged their souls to the dark arts could read the souls of the people. Personally, I had never listened to those gossips, mainly because never before had I been with a conjurer or an augurer. 

 

“My reasons do not concern you, necromancer” I spat the words at it as judgmentally as I could. They only brought a hand to its chest and faked a pained gasp. 

 

“And here I thought I was going to be of service to this great land-” They moved the hand to their mouth and snickered quietly before finishing its sentence. I opened my mouth, fishing my mind for something intelligent with what to reply, but my words were cut before they came out as the wizard threw their head back with a barking laugh “oh glorious constellations- ‘great land’- ha! Can’t even say it- This kingdom has never been anything but wasteland!”

 

I glared at them from under my cloak, my cheeks heated and my lips pursed tightly. Angrily, I opened my mouth again to yell a command of silence at it, but I suddenly found myself to have an eyeful of the sorcerer’s insulting grin right before me.

 

“Isn’t that what got you in this situation, your _Highness_?” They sneered “after all, _he_ wouldn’t have said all those things about you and your lands if they weren’t true, would he?”

 

My eyes widened. I took a step back, ignoring the way my legs trembled with fury under me.

 

“that’s- that’s-!” If we hadn’t been in their tree and if I had come escorted by my usual guard, I would have had them go to prison. However, I could do nothing against it; I wasn’t at my manor. This was their humble abode- and as a guest of their house I of course could not refute them. Specially cause there wasn’t anything to refute.

 

Its sneer grew indignantly wider.

 

“How do you know that?” I demanded.

 

Their hood rose a little higher above me as it stood a little straighter “I, your Grace, know everything worth knowing, and that not worth knowing too. That that should be known and that that should not be known by the eyes of the living. The indisputable and studied things of the world, and the deepest and darkest secrets of the universe. The harmless facts of life and the most dangerous mysteries of death” 

 

In any other circumstance I would have laughed off those ludicrous claims; I would have called them mad and probably ordered them to be dragged to the dungeons and delighted myself to the sound of the pleading cries disappearing down the corridors of my manor. I would have done it if that hadn’t been what I’d been wishing to hear.

 

Before a word could leave my mouth I found long and rather bony finger pressed against my lips, the sorcerer _‘shh’_ ing me. 

 

“But you must know, your Highness, that I can only share with you the knowledge you seek by making a deal with you”

 

I took a step back from their cold finger “a deal?”

 

“We must strike a deal for me to lay you all you wish to know”

 

I gave a brief nod “Well, what do you want?”

 

They simply shrugged “Don’t know. I usually prefer for my speaker to make me some proposals and the deal goes through when they offer me something that catches my fancy. Every soothsayer is different, we each have our methods and tastes. So…” Their smirk returned to their face “what are you willing to sacrifice for the power you seek, your Grace?”

 

I looked away thoughtfully, considering and meditating their words as quickly as I could. I hadn’t prepared for that- I hadn’t thought or even imagined that I’d really get where I was right now. I was only a few steps - fewer by the minute! - of acquiring the power, the means I needed to carry out my retribution! It was basically in my grasp, I just had to reach a little further…

 

“The kingdom” I declared proudly. The sorcerer placed a hand on their chin, seeming to consider my offer.

 

“Tempting. _Buuuuuuuut_ …no”

 

I gawked “what? Why not?!”

 

“Seeing how things are as of right now, you aren’t the _actual_ ruler of this land, thus this realm isn’t yours to trade so unless you become _‘Your Majesty’_ in the next couple of minutes you’ll need something else to bargain with”

 

With a deep breath, and leaving behind the small glimmer of hope I had that it wouldn’t come to this, I met their dark eyes.

 

“My eternal soul”

 

They narrowed their eyes at me, like considering my offer. I realized I held back my breath, waiting for their answer. It seemed to me like it was forever before they finally parted their lips and…laughed…They _guffawed_ obscenely delighted and ridiculously loud, doubling over inside their cloak, hands on their knees. I blinked furiously.

 

“Oh stars-! that was rich” They stood straight once again, wiping a tear away from their eye “First of all; I’m a _sorcerer_ , not a demon, second, what would I ever do with something intangible and pointless like a soul? No, no, if you really want the knowledge you seek then you’ll have to offer something more… _corporeal_ ”

 

I cursed under my breath, listing the few things I had with me “my horse?”

 

“I’ve got three”

 

“this cloak?”

 

“Mine is much more prettier”

 

“My gown?”

 

“While I’d certainly love seeing you ride through this forest naked, only wearing that cloak, I’d never wear the gown, so no”

 

“My hair?”

 

“Your Highness, you insult me. Do you have any idea how much work I put into maintaining this style of my own?”

 

I ran over my mind in search of something else I could offer to them, but I had nothing.

 

“Surely there must be _something_ you can offer?”

 

I shook my head.

 

“I see. Well, this has been an utter waste of time” The soothsayer shrugged “Guess you’ll have to find another way to look for the answer to your predicament with someone else, your Highness, or simply give up, I mean, you could forget about his words and settle for the life we both know you’ve been born to-”

 

“Wait!” I yelled, teeth gritted tightly “There is something else I can offer”

 

I almost backed down when I saw their derisive smirk “oh? And what might that me?”

 

“M- myself” I swallowed down the sudden lump in my throat “Give me the knowledge I came for…and you can do as you please with me”

 

Their eyebrow raised with picked interest. With one hand on their chin and scratching it lightly, deeply in thought, their other ashen hand rose from within the cloak and disappeared into mine, finding my chest inside and _gripping it_.

 

A furious blush rose up my entire face when I felt them squeeze.

 

“You- bastard!” I swatted their hand away and slapped them across the face, hard as I could. The wizard didn’t react to the blow, not even the slightest flinch to it. I huffed angrily.

 

“I find your offer to be…” they licked their lips, a shiver running down my spine “acceptable” Their hand pulled out from under my cloak and its long, cadaverous fingers extended at me, hand stretched for me to take “but we must shake on it”

 

With a soft sigh, I brought my own hand up. I wasn’t really sure what was the difference between offering my soul and offering myself other than the bodily complications and conveniences, but what was all that for a sorcerer?

 

My small hand was easily enveloped in their’s “Its a deal”

 

A wide grin split the mage’s lips “Exquisite. Although, this should hurt a little - feel free to squirm and scream as you please”

 

“What do you-“ My next words were killed still inside my throat. My chest was suddenly pierced by a terrible pain, a sword-like stinging, hot like iron inside a fire just over my beating heart. 

 

My knees buckled over under me and I fell to the ground. My eyes were blinded by the pain I felt - it seemed to have extended to the rest of my body and if it wasn’t that the sorcerer was still holding my hand firmly in his, I would have writhed and thrashed violently on the floor like a maniac. 

 

The pain stopped as soon as it came and I looked down inside my cloak. Peaking from under my clothes, I could identify what appeared to be a sigil, blood red and seemingly in _constant movement_ on my soft and snowy skin.

 

“Now that the deal has been closed” The grin became dark under their hood “lets go look for the power you seek, _Princess_ ”


	3. Garden Statue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Choice was made

When the princess of Deadstone and I met officially for the third time in our lives, it was only three days before the wedding took place. Before that, our only interaction had been through a mandatory letter that had to be sent between the two intendeds; a description of ourselves and some detailing of the things that we could offer to the marriage. While mine had been long, descriptive and smooth, filled with all the particulars I felt she’d need to know before the actual commitment; the princess’s had been short and robotic, cut off of any specifics about herself. A frustrating letter to read to say the least.

The actual meeting wasn’t much better than it. Lord Carlyle proudly marched inside the throne hall of my castle, making me feel almost like it wasn’t my own, followed by all his daughters in a perfect line, their low-ranking husbands beside them. And at the end of the line, head hung and eyes firmly trained on the skirts of her garments, princess Lucy stood hunched over herself, trembling anxiously as the proper introductions were made.

Once all the curtsies were exchanged, the Lord practically demanded a tour of the castle, his family trailing after him like a personal guard. I offered the princess a more private tour between us, as was customary to do as a way that she and I would get to meet each other better. It would have probably worked its purpose, if the princess had actually had anything to contribute to the conversation with, but she limited herself only to following me like a lost puppy, making quiet signals of understanding to my words and speaking when absolutely necessary.

She was a completely different woman from the powerful and blood-thirsty conqueror I remembered her to be. There were no threats of total annihilation of my country in the talk, no accusations of past wrongs ever committed, no claims of future victory over my pleading corpse, not even the slightest curse over my deathbed or looks of hatred in the direction I was.

I only ever caught her making a pleading look her father’s way a couple of times, but I kept this details to myself.

The day of the wedding arrived like any other day would have, except my whole kingdom woke up early to prepare themselves for the celebration. Oh, what a glorious wedding it was going to be - extravagant curtains hung from every wall of the palace’s halls, embellished white and red flowers adorned every room inside the castle, royalty and important head-figures of my neighboring countries and many others had attended, all dressed up in their finest galas for the occasion, the kingdom’s most prominently known classical-music orchestra, the largest red-velvet chocolate cake I’d ever seen _(my secret, personal favorite)_ with the best, most delicious white icing I’d ever tasted on top.

Yes, it was truly a wedding fit for a king and a queen of a nation as mine, and it was definitely the kind of wedding I had pictured for myself. Everything was exactly like I’d wanted it, every last detail of the decor, the banquet, the guests, the music. The only thing that wasn’t how I wished it to be, was the bride.

I stood before the altar feeling nothing but apprehension, fear and frustration. Even with the orchestra playing, I could hear the murmurs of my people behind me.

_“Our king is so brave, marrying that monstrous girl…”_

_“His a fool if you ask me, he should have never agreed to this!”_

_“Our army is strong enough to teach this ‘Lord’ a lesson, we should have gone to battle against them”_

_“Show some respect! The king is doing this for our sakes!”_

_“That girl is a monster, being the one to lead their army against everyone! She’s lucky our king ever accepted her…”_

I would have been swept away by all that, had I not caught the gaze of my Royal Guard’s Commander on me from the sidelines of the hall. It was slightly surprising to see him actually focusing his eyes on something other than the infinity of time itself while on duty, even more surprising to have him focused on me, but what actually made me stop on my train of thought was the look he gave me. He looked so forlorn, so impotent, so…powerless as he watched me standing before the altar, waiting for someone else to stand beside me and take my vows.

How I wished he could look at me with different eyes.

And it wasn’t long before the door of the hall opened, Lord Carlyle tightly gripping his daughter’s hand before him. The people in the benches stood up as they began the walk down the long aisle, the musicians changing the piece they had been peacefully playing to that of a nuptial march.

I kept my face as neutral as I could manage, the curves of my lips just barley tilted down, my eyes focused ahead on her with concealed determination, an expression I had schooled, practiced and perfected since my younger years for my court cases with the nobles.

With her eyes also firmly trained before her, princess Lucy advanced regally towards me, her beautiful white dress dragging behind her gently. Her milky-white shoulders were bare, her cleavage showing nicely, before the arms were covered by a silk that hung on her just right. The skirt of the dress was a long ballgown, fluffed with tulle and covered in more white silk, filled with beautiful handmade stitched flowers and pearls. The diamond tiara over her head kept the veil in place, over her head and down her shoulders behind her, giving her a rather spectral yet oddly charming aura.

She was the true image of royalty and all I could feel in myself about it was absolute loathing.

We stood side by side before the altar, the priest before us droning on about what our union would mean for our two kingdoms, the new and bright beginning that would come from it and how by taking each other we would be taking an important commitment to our people and the other. I wasn’t sure how much she actually listened to what he said, I know for sure I wasn’t paying all my attention to all of it.

Turning to finally look at each other, we exchanged vows, promising to stand by the other’s side and to support the other’s decisions, to always look for the better of one another and to never allow anyone to come in between us. Then we slipped the small golden rings on our fingers, and the band began to play again.

I led her down the aisle as the people clapped around us, her hand gently, faintly placed on top of mine. My eyes drifted momentarily to the side of the room where the guards were stationed, all of them stoically standing in place, their eyes nonchalantly staring into a faraway reality. Among them, my personal guard stood out, just barely, in his pristine steel armor, in the center of the chest-plate the coat of arms of my kingdom - a grand shield with an asymmetrical tower-like top with a pair of snake-dragonettes both curving over each other, a coronet resting right atop their heads, and on the bottom a drapery of simple shape that read _‘Spirits guide us, spirits watch over us’_. His head was covered by a helmet of impressive plumage on the top, signaling his rank of Commander. I sighed heavily as I passed by him.

The reception was a marvelous banquet held in the castle’s gardens, which had been of course prepared specially for the occasion. The terraces had been throughout-fully swept of dust and leaves, the old greek-style columns cleaned as well. Tables were placed around the plateau, all covered with big, white tablecloths, their edges embroidered with golden thread, the coat of arms of my kingdom in the corners of it in silver. There was obviously an enormous feast provided by only the best cooks of my kingdom, all of who work for me in the castle kitchens of course, most of it placed on the Royal Family table, in which I would be sitting with princess - now actually - Queen Lucy at my side, her father beside her, and her sisters and their husbands around us.

Statues stood all around the gardens in which the party was held, most of them representing the Queens and the few Kings my kingdom of Dragary had had in the past, with the different aspects of their rules carved on the material of the sculpture; Queen Mardelle Dragaria Lockwood the First, her statue carved off the oak three in which she killed the enormous dragon that terrorized the people, who crowned her their ruler. Queen Peony Crescenta Lockwood the Strange, her figure made out of copper as a tribute to her peculiar choice making regarding the kingdom. King Jayden Etherius Lockwood the Unbound, his image chiseled in gold as a symbol of all the political relationships he acquired for the kingdom during his reign. Queen Andrea Meteora Lockwood the Visionary, her sculpture made out of steel, symbolizing her improving and recreating of our army’s battle strategies and techniques. King Darren Polarian Lockwood the King of Justice, who’s icon was sculpted on iron in recognition to his oppressive rule but fair treatment of his people and those who crossed him. King Bastian Cosmic Lockwood the Death Bringer, his image engraved with the bones of Nuldrarth The Nocturnal Lord of the Snake-Dragonettes after his army of Cosmical Warriors and him won the war against the battling creatures. And the latest addition to the Garden of Legacy, Queen Celia Vesper Lockwood the Explorer, who’s icon was carved on the same pine wood as the one of her ship, The Portland, had been before crashing on one of her many travels around the countries.

Soon, my statue would also be placed among those of our ancient rulers, in a stone or material of my choosing, and when I died, the elements of my ruling years would be added to it to honor my memory.

The party passed quickly for me, quietly sitting on my throne, my queen beside me. She would silently sip her wine and boredly looking at my people as they danced and drank and had their fill of the incredible food. Usually I would join my subjects in celebration at the events I organized, but today I felt not the joy they feasted upon. While I understood well the cause of their elation, not only the wedding but the avoidance of a war as well, I felt unable to participate in it. I couldn’t bring myself to party the outcome of what was surely going to make me miserable for the rest of my days.

I retired to my chambers as soon as I was able to - after giving a speech on the future prosperity of the kingdom, complimenting the chefs on the wonderful food, thanking everyone for attending the event, etc, etc, etc, - with Queen Lucy wordlessly trailing after me, the long skirts of her dress and her veil, now parted from her face, dragging after her. Thankfully, we weren’t expected to stay the whole wedding party. Thanklessly, the reason as to why wasn’t so good…for me at least.

We walked almost side by side, with her unsurprisingly a couple of steps just behind me, going through the beautiful halls of my castle. I knew the corridors of my palace as well as the back and front parts of my hands, each one of the carefully picked curtains’ meanings, the essence of each of the attentively built windows, the significance on every piece of armor dutifully displayed on them, the substance of every meticulously-made and shown tapestry on the walls. Everything from the most notorious design to the simplest detail of my family home was an important addition made by each of its ancestral inhabitants, and it was my duty as their predecessor to know them all.

I would mindlessly think of all this as I passed them to distract myself from the awkward presence of my queen, until the sound of her voice broke me out of my mental checklist.

“I thought Dragary was a queen-based monarchy” She said from behind me. I stopped on my tracks at the sound of her voice. Once again, the character inside her had changed. Unlike during the wedding and on our Official Meeting three days before it, she wasn’t a soft presence anymore. She wasn’t a small princess at the mercy of her father, a mere pawn in that man’s game of gain. I could hear the traces of that confident, capable woman I saw her as during that seemingly-ages-ago meeting.

“It is” I answered, noticing we were standing in the Hall of Rulers. She was looking at the portrait of one of the many Lockwood Royal Families, this one being from the Elarian Era - Queen Charlotte Elara Lockwood the Strongest Light standing regally along her only daughter, princess Amber Lunaria Lockwood “Heiresses are given priority over the other kids of the current queen or king”

“Did Queen Celia Vesper have no daughters?” She asked coldly.

“She did. Princess Jessica Solena died a long time ago”

And after that she said no more. Her mouth was sealed close once more like it had during the ceremony and before, the only sounds being the one of her dress and my boots against the stone.

I left her at the door of her chambers with a quiet goodbye and marched away to my own only a few corridors away. Mine was the Ruler’s Chambers, the biggest room in the entirety of the castle, and the room that all Queen and King had spent their rule in. My mother, Queen Celia, did before me, her mother did before her, and her mother did before her, all the way back to Queen Mardelle Dragaria.

Two sentries stood at the sides of the doors, clad in their heavy armor, thin chainmail, feathered helmets and longswords, both perfectly still as they stared off into the nothing. Only signs of life they gave was the quick salute as they saw me approach.

I couldn’t help the small slip of my eyes as I noticed that the second guard was, in fact, Commander Kipps. Of course it had to be him; for years now, as my personal guard, he had been posted right outside my chambers and study. It was his duty to follow me and ensure my safety, a position we had many times before taken advantage of I must admit.

His grey eyes didn’t turn to see me however, just like they never did before whenever I passed by him, and used to this as I was, I couldn’t help the sense of pain erupting from my inmost faculties.

So, without a final goodbye, or a last glance from any of us, I entered my room.

**——**

The death of a ruler was always a motive to mourn. No matter the nation they ruled, or the way in which they ruled it, a lost monarch was always a reason for all other communities to stop what they were doing and mourn the loss of a lost royal.

Lord Carlyle’s death came only a few weeks after the wedding.

One evening he’d been sitting at the dinner table looking as lively and bitter a man his age could possibly be, and the next morning he’d been laying on his bed, cold as diamond and still as stone. He was found by the maids that would attend him every dawn, who called the nearest guards for help.

But nothing could be done to help the old Lord.

A burying ceremony was held three days later at the castle. Every king and queen of every nation that was of our acquaintance came to pay their respects, as well as every baron and duke, every count and prince, every dame and lady that had once known the Lord. Of course, his daughters were present as well, all of them wearing their best mourning dresses, with black veils over their heads and white handkerchiefs in their hands to dab their tears with.

My wife, Queen Lucy, was no exception to this of course. Her ballgown-styled dress was the envy of all the other women’s eyes even in this disheartening occasion, black to the last detail, from the ribbons and waves stitched to the skirt, to the form-fitting and decorous top, the lace sleeves around her slender arms, and the black veil that came off her tiara. A beautiful image of power and regency that did nothing but bring a bitter feeling to my innards.

The entire kingdom was around us, everyone having stopped their running errands to attend the woeful ceremony.

However, unlike her sisters and the rest of her people of Deadstone, my Queen Lucy never shed a single tear. Her eyes remained dry and calm all during the ceremony, her lips pale and slightly frowned like usual for her, no running makeup on her cheeks or handkerchief. Her small hands were tightly grasped on one another before her, stiffly, uncomfortably so like she was containing herself.

Despite what little I felt for her, mostly only the bitterness planted on my stomach, my heart clenched and moaned in tenderness and a personally-long-known agony. The loss of a parent.

When my parents, Queen Celia Vesper Lockwood and King consort Donald Lockwood, perished in the eye of a storm during the last of their beloved travels around and about the lands of our most distanced allies, I was hurt beyond anything fathomable. The pain I felt back then was one that could bring perfectly-built walls down in seconds, and I could remember clear as daylight to this day that the only way I got through it was by my sister’s guidance, princess Jessica Solena Lockwood.

My dearest older sister would be queen today had she not passed away during a drake’s attack on the castle, which made me next on the line of royals, converting this from the Solenian Era into the Estellarian Era, the age of King Anthony Estellarian Lockwood.

As I stood beside my Queen, I raised my hand and placed it upon her naked shoulder, my calloused fingers gently laying on her silky skin. She looked up from the casket standing before her, her ever-scowling eyes glaring at me from behind the black veil cascading down over her face. I looked down at her, staring into her desolated orbs with an expression on my face that I knew wouldn’t give her much comfort, but hoping she could feel my support through my other physical gesture.

If she did however, she didn’t show it. We both just spent a couple of seconds staring into each others impassive faces before we looked back to the chest before us.

The rest of the ceremony went by just like that, mostly in silence except for the sounds of some women’s sobbing. The casket was buried quickly and the guests were thanked for their attendance, then seen to a personal guard that would escort them back to their respective lands as per royal funerary tradition. And so, after the last of our company departed, I watched my Queen depart to her chambers, regally as ever, and quiet as a mouse.

I walked back to my own chambers in brooding silence, hands held behind my back. The sound of my boots were the only thing I heard besides the voices of my melancholic thoughts and the echoes of my memories. Remembrance wasn’t a path I usually enjoyed taking in my moments of quiet, but I allowed myself to stroll down by it for now.

The old memories of my family were painful to bring back; filled with darkening voids from lost parts due to aging, ever-present shadows from my traveling king and queen, a slow-fading image of the heiress of Dragary’s throne and core-burning aching.

As I allowed them to run free for some moments, just as I reached the guarded door of my bedchambers, it dawned on me that my Queen was most assuredly suffering from the same agonies I felt upon remembering, but for her these were wounds that had been carved open just a few days back. So, I turned around from the door and made my way down the recently-walked halls towards my Queen’s alcove.

We had barely spent time with one another since the wedding, scarcely talked with the other without someone else needing both of our input in something, and hardly even looked at the other if we didn’t have an ulterior motive. Getting to know each other had become impossible with the needs of our kingdoms weighting on our shoulders. Still, there was no better time than the present.

Frowning as I marched into the West Wing of the castle where the consort’s, my Queen’s, chamber’s were, I noticed that the guards that were always stationed through the halls were nowhere to be seen. The suits of armor and tapestries were all on their rightful places, not an inch to the side, but the soldiers that should have been there, waiting upon orders from their Queen or from me, were all missing.

Deciding that this warranted a talk with the Commander, I stopped before the door of my Queen, which was also mysteriously unguarded. I took a moment before I even laid my hand on the door’s handle, taking a few deep breaths as my mind decided which would be the best way to approach her. The circumstances of our marriage were not ideal, and our relationship before it was less than unfortunate, and while in my heart I still couldn’t stop the throbbing pain that not being with Commander Kipps caused me, it was as King my duty to do what was best for my people, and if I could get something good from that, then I was willing to try for it.

The Consort’s chambers were most similar to mine, albeit right now decorated for a woman, with a grand bed in the middle, a beautiful crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, with sweetly scented candles lighted around the room, with a beautiful painting or two hanging from the walls, a big wooden dresser and a boudoir on the side. And just as I stepped into the elegant suite my attention was enraptured by my Queen, pressed against the stone wall, still clad in her mourning dress, by someone else with who she shared a passionate kiss.

I stopped death on my tracks. The tiara and veil had been tossed to the floor, laying now right before my boots, and the lace that had covered her shoulders had now been teared away from the dress, her arms bare as they were wrapped around the other person’s neck, one of her small hands going up and tangling into their charcoal hair. Even though they were covered by a long, dark robe, I could see the person’s hands on her waist, their long fingers caressing the fabric of the dress in a fervent manner as they kept her pressed between them and the stone.

A knot formed on the back of my throat and kept me quiet. My legs locked under me and would not obey my brain’s command of leaving the room at once. My arms stiffened at my sides and would not raise to look for something that would keep me on balance as I felt like my mind filled with air and made me feel bilious.

But as I watched the make out get more forceful and heated, the other person pulled back from it.

“I believe someone’s come to find you, your Highness” They said in a deep and melodious voice, an enchanting sound that seemed to pour out like a gentle stream falling and merging into a vast lake. They looked around, their dark eyes meeting mine with a sardonic glint and an impish expression, their sharp features curved into a thrilled smile.

The Queen breathed heavily, still leaning back against the wall, one of her arms still wrapped around the person’s shoulders. Her eyes slowly unclouded from the overwhelm of emotions, becoming the same sour glare that she’d always have. With a quiet huff, I imagine it must have been of frustration, she stood straight on her feet, dusted off her skirt, and finally looked at me with eyes colder than diamonds.

“King Lockwood”

With my throat still knotted, I opened my mouth and managed a small “…Queen Lucy”

“What brings you to my chambers?”

“…I came to ascertain your wellbeing. And to talk to you”

“What is it that you wish to talk?” The other person stood behind her, their long robe brushing against the carpet on the floor, looking between her and me with an amused smile.

“Our _marriage_ ” I said pointedly, keeping my eyes firmly on hers.

“Our marriage is a fraud” She argued indignantly, hands folding on her skirts “My father only wished to possess the good land in which your kingdom lays, and he got what he wanted. Through me”

I waved off my shock from the sudden encounter “It doesn’t have to be a fraud”

“It can’t be anything else, I’m afraid” She stepped towards me, away from the person that stayed still in place. As she came up to me, I saw her brisk expression soften, warming and melting down like a little piece of butter left under the scorching sun of summer. Her eyes casted down at the carpet beneath our feet with a sense of…helplessness?

Her gloved hands extended before her as she stood right in front of me, instinctively bringing up my own, bigger hands to hold hers. Her long eyelashes prevented me from looking into her warm, chocolate orbs, but I could perfectly well see the small shining of welling tears on the corner of them. My heart clenched and moaned like it during the ceremony.

“…I’m sorry my King…” she lamented softly. I could feel her hands trembling gently in mine “I- I just…I can’t do this, I- I just couldn’t…”

With a tender squeeze of my hands and a quiet sob from her, I looked up to see the person behind her, standing silently a few steps away, watching the Queen with a gaze so loving, so affectionate and devoted, I understood at once what happened.

“I know you don’t- you don’t love me, my King, I know you don’t, and- and I am sorry, but-“ I turned down to her once more to see her beautiful eyes, spilling those precious tears “I’m- I also cannot love you, I-“

“Don’t apologize my Queen” She took a shaky breath to steady herself, and, retracting one of my hands from hers, I brought out a handkerchief from my coat’s pocket and softly dabbed her tears with it, cleaning the running makeup from her snowy cheeks “and waste no more of your tears, you have no one to apologize to, and nothing to beg forgiveness for; after all, love is no crime”

I removed the last of her smeared mascara from her cheeks and watched her eyes glisten as I spoke, her tears caught on her eyelashes.

“Do- do you mean it, my King?”

“I do. I understand you, for me this was also an…inconvenient arrangement, but the thought of not even trying to make things better with you troubled me to no end. But now, seeing how much distress this has caused you, I don’t wish anything but that you and your lover may remain together”

Her eyes widened affectionately “King Lockwood…”

“No one in our kingdoms can know, my Queen, I’m sure you understand this would open opportunities to our nations’ enemies to attack us”

“Yes, I understand that”

“Will keep your secret well guarded” I gave her hands a final squeeze before I stepped back from her. The robed person behind her still said no words, only watched us with a smile of their own. The Queen gave me a small smile, a truly grateful one from what I could see, and turned back to her lover.

They joined hands just as I walked out of the room, closing the doors behind myself. I took a moment to properly process everything that happened oh so quickly inside the Consort’s chambers, feeling like my chest was being pierced by a sword over again as the image of the Queen kissing their lover filled my mind once more. True, before this moment I thought nothing of her other than what terrible emotions would fill me due to the circumstances, however, the thought of her coming down to the debaucherous decision of being _unfaithful?…_

The night before our wedding I had taken the firm decision of leaving behind my feelings for the Commander, knowing well that it’d be something I could never truly let go of, but that I had to try, for the sake of my kingdom. Now however, after watching her unravel her feelings like that to me after weeks of only cold exchanges of words and even colder looks, I couldn’t begin to fathom the thought of making her abandon her loved one. After all, if it was all kept secret, there wouldn’t be any problem.

Which, then left me…

I hurried out of the West Wing of the palace, still missing all its supposed guards, until I arrived to my study, where two soldiers stood quietly at the door, arms stiffly at their sides and one hand over the pommel of their swords, ready to attack should they be threatened or should I give them the command to. However, none of them was the one soldier I wished to see.

“Where is Commander Kipps?”

“He was called away by one of the personal guards, King Estellarian, he will return once they get to the border”

“When was this?”

“After the Mourning Ceremony finished, sir”

“Then he should be on his way back now. Tell Commander Kipps to meet me in the Garden of Legacy immediately when he returns”

And with that I walked away from the stationed soldiers, listening to my own thoughts as I walked down to the beautiful gardens of the castle.

Unlike the when the wedding celebration took place in them, they were now empty of other souls and quiet except for the small night critters that hid among the darkening corners. The statues casted shadows down the stepping stones and the carefully-trimmed grass, growing longer and more twisted as the sun lowered and then grew back as the pearl white moon raised on the obscuring heaven, the beautiful white dots of the stars appearing around it.

I stood before the wooden statue of my mother, Queen Celia Vesper Lockwood, in silence. Her cold gaze casted down directly on top of me, harsh and grim, a way in which I never remembered seeing her. My memory didn’t allow me many memories from her, but I certainly never recall witnessing a moment of anger of hers, mostly only moments of great kindness and motherly companionship.

And just a few steps away from hers, made from mountain stone, the base for the next statue - mine. Soon enough there would be another statue on the Garden of Legacy, brought in after the reigning monarch’s wedding like was traditional, and placed upon its base with its plaque. Then, after my death the statue would be altered; the material would likely be changed from the traditional marble to something else that represented my years of ruling, and the plaque would have my full title written on it.

I noticed the sounds of steps behind me.

“Commander Kipps” I turned around, opening my mouth to speak again - for my words to die on my throat.

“My King” The sound of steps still continued, but there was nothing before me, only the sound of those words seemingly coming from the bare wind. It was a purring sound, nice and soft to the ear, like a tender caress. And yet unsettling like a chill running down your spine.

I looked around for anything that could have been the source of the disembodied voice, but the garden was completely empty save for myself. The statues’ enlarging shadows danced gently with the wind, making it difficult to see whoever else could have been hiding out.

“Where are you?” I growled, squinting my eyes to see better “I command you to come out!”

The voice came again, once more from an unrecognizable source, as a dark and unsettling chuckle. The sound was so deep, so low in pitch it just seemed to be coming from the ground beneath me, shaking me to my core with unease.

I was suddenly pushed back, something hitting me square on my chest, forcing the air out of my lungs with that single blow. My boots stumbled back as I lost my balance, the heels hitting against the stone base behind me and stepping over it.

“Better now, _my King?_ ” I opened my eyes to find that I was suddenly face to face with a pair of dark, sardonic eyes and a thin pair of lips that curved sharply into a devilish smirk. A long mane of charcoal hair cascaded around the face before me, their tall body covered in a black robe that pooled around their feet “I sure hope I didn’t startle you too badly”

My eyes widened “You-”

“Skull, yes, a shame we weren’t properly introduced, Your Majesty” They said with an air of superiority, flicking some of the dark locks of their hair behind their shoulder “I would have loved to have a proper discussion with you of the materials that could be used for this, but then again, there isn’t much time, so I guess I’ll just have to be traditional and quick about it”

“What are you talking about?” I tugged on my leg so I could step off the stone, but found my boot stuck down to the stone. There was a cold chill spreading up my ankle, also starting to tickle down on my other foot just above the boot. Looking down to see what was keeping me in place I let out a loud gasp when I see my feet along the beginnings of my slacks coated in white. With another tug on my leg I found that not only I couldn’t lift my leg - none of my muscles responded to the moving command “what the hell is happening?”

“Oh, that?” The person let out a snicker, rolling their eyes in a playful manner “like I said, I would have loved to go a little more into details for this, but time _is_ of the essence, you know? I can’t spend all night deciding which stone would be better to use”

“Stone?!”

“For your Legacy Statue of course” The cold had begun to unpleasantly spread over my calves, the muscles ceasing all intended movement and hardening, as well as my pants over them, however, not loosing the sensations. I could feel the bitter stone against me like if I was only laying against it, except it was wrapped all around my legs, moving up and over my knees.

“Stop this at once, you Sorcerer! This is a crime against the nations of Dragary and Deadstone, and you will pay for your insolence!” The whiteness kept advancing over my limbs, getting closer to my torso and causing fear to begin pooling inside my stomach. The wizard simply chuckled darkly again, watching in amusement.

“Oh my poor King Estellarian, do you really think I will stop just because you commanded so?” They leant closer to me than they already were, stepping over the stone base, however their robe and feet remained clean from the chilling whiteness that wrapped around my body from the inside out, gaining ground over my narrow hips. Their long, boney hand came up and gently touched my cheek, taking a few seconds to caress it before they pressed their lips against mine.

Under any normal circumstances I would have pushed the sorcerer away from me and have them be taken to the dungeons, but as my stomach hardened in fear and with the stony cold that kept spreading I was unable to do anything to prevent him from kissing me. There was a brief moment in which I felt a new sensation besides the traveling cold, but a warmer one that radiated in my chest for a second before it rose up my throat and I felt it vanish in my mouth, only a flash away before the wizard pulled back.

They still caressed my face with their long fingers, emanating a lover’s gentility in the action as they leant in closer to my ear. I felt their hot breath brush against it for an instant before four small, whispering words left their mouth and froze my blood.

_“…Long live the Queen”_

The lack of the warm presence of their body brought me back to reality to find that I had suddenly placed my arms regally before me, with my sword, which up until now had remained in its sheath, held between my hands, the steel tip of it coating in the same white stone. Marble.

“You really should have seen her face when she told me she wanted to take over and rule everything all by herself” My eyes moved up again and I let out a wheezing gasp, finding myself not staring at those same dark eyes from before, but into my own. In fact, standing before me completely free of the expanding marble stone was myself, same clothes as the ones I wore now “I know any normal man would have said no to such demands, but then again, I am not just any man”

“Why are you doing this…?” My words died slowly on my mouth as the marble kept growing, taking over my lungs. It stunned the breathing organs into complete motionlessness and pooled inside, blocking the passage of air. However, much to my growing dismay, I found that I didn’t need it anymore.

I saw myself snicker before my eyes “Why? Why not? After seeing the possible outcomes I can’t say I’m not intrigued by this one! Soon of course you’ll see it too, and you’ll understand. All the great improvements in technology, all the incredible new additions to the kingdom’s lands, everything thanks to the hardworking Queen. The King however…”

My arms were now fully frozen by marble now, my whole body under me unresponding to my brain’s commands. I could feel the cold creeping up my neck, the inside of my throat hardening.

“…King Anthony Estellarian Lockwood the Uncaring. Catchy, isn’t it? The Great Estellarian Era, knowing not only for the magnificent improvements done on the kingdom, but for being the only time in which the reigning monarch did less than their consort”

In my mind I could hear myself growling at them, while on the outside, my entire mouth was now covered in marble, shaped into a never-moving frown.

“But I’m sure you’ll find that seeing all this happen before you will be quite boring, as I’ve already spoilt the surprise, a real shame, but don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find other more interesting things to witness, after all…statues don’t die”

And with that, white growing gravel covered my ears and his last word echoed inside my stone head. The marble enclosed over my eyes, the image of them before me becoming colorless and ghastly. They stepped back from the stone base in which I now rested silently, looking me up and down with a satisfied grin.

There was another sound of steps not too far from me and I heard a much too familiar voice calling from among the other statues.

“King Estellarian?” The Commander stopped a respectful distance away, bowing deeply at the sorcerer that now stood between him and me in disguise.

“We are alone, Commander” My voice came out from the being before me as they turned around to meet the man that I had intended to talk to “You know not to be so formal when we are on our own”

The soldier took off his feathered helmet and gave my doppelgänger a smile I hadn’t seen in the weeks since I accepted the marriage proposal “yes, I know so, Anthony. I was told you wished to see me”

And so, in my marble state, standing regally among the other tributes, I listened to the man I love, the one man I trusted most, the one person I would only ever love, the one I had swore to remain away from for the sake of my people, talking to the snake-tongued wizard and tell each other the same sweet promises we had once given each other, a time lost long ago. I wept in silence in my cursed form for him, for the nation, for myself.

I knew I had made the wrong choice.


End file.
